


Slow Dancing Aliens

by LordRebeccaSama



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Art in Fic, Asexual Character, Asexual Dean Winchester, But everything else is the same, Complete, Couch Cuddles, Dean-Centric, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e15 Tall Tales, Gen, Internalized Acephobia, Light Angst, M/M, Mostly Fluff, No Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Only a little bit of sex where they don't get very far, SPN Ace Mini-Bang 2016, Super understanding Gabriel, They're Werewolves, Trickster Gabriel, Werewolf Dean Winchester, Werewolf Mates, Werewolf Sam Winchester, Werewolf Winchesters, at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-06-07 09:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6798340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordRebeccaSama/pseuds/LordRebeccaSama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there is only one case of slow dancing and Dean does not do it.</p><p>Gabriel does...well, he's the cause of it, and it's only because he really wanted to mess with his mate's case. Dean doesn't (he totally does) think it's funny, and most defiantly does NOT have sex with Gabe ever. Sam is unamused.<br/>--<br/>Until Dean was ten, he was perfectly normal, thank you very much.</p><p>Then, he turned into a wolf. But it was okay since he dad and brother could, too. He couldn't figure out what "urges" his dad kept talking about, but in the larger scheme of things, it didn't matter. Not even after meeting his dumb angel-turned trickster mate, who just wouldn't stop pranking dicks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which John is an Absent Father and They Meet

“John,” Mary interrupted.  She stepped into the bedroom, two-year-old Dean on her hip.

“What?” John growled out, pausing in his packing.  He didn’t turn around to face her.

“Why won’t you tell me where you go every month?” Mary bounced Dean lightly  He had started to squirm and reach for John while making small growling sounds.

John sighed and set down the shirt he was holding. “It’s just a camping trip.  I’ll be home in two days.” He resumed his packing.

She frowned and hugged Dean tighter.  Her husband’s ‘camping trip’ always fell on the full moon, and it always made her nervous.  Realistically, she knew that it was more likely for werewolves to be in populated areas, but she still worried.  She knew what was out in the dark.

John zipped up his duffle and turned to face her.  He chanced a smile and gave her a kiss. “I’ll be fine.  I’ll check in in the mornings and nights and when I’m heading home.”

Mary nodded.  John reached out and pulled the growling, giggling mass from her arms and playfully growled back at their son. “I’ll be back soon, kiddo.  Be good for mom.” He kissed Dean on the forehead and passed him back.  Dean tried to escape her arms again to get back to John.

Mary followed John down through the house and waved as he drove away.  One day, when Dean was older, she’d try to convince him to take them along.

\--

John was sleeping in the living room when he smelt it—fire (and sulfur, but he didn’t connect the dots until later).  He leapt up and raced towards Sammy’s nursery.  The baby was crying, flames burst around Mary’s suspended body, a large bleeding gash in her stomach.  He could faintly smell the blood over the flames.

Sammy cried out again.  Protect—he had to protect the kids—then Mary.  They were the future of his pack.

“Dad, wassit?” Four-year-old Dean mumbled from the doorway.

John didn’t think; he shoved the wailing baby into Dean’s small hands. “Get your brother outside as fast as you can!”

Dean stared down at Sammy for a second then looked up and caught sight of Mary and the fire.

“Mom!” he shouted, trying to lunge forward and almost dropping Sammy.

“Go!  I’ll get her!” John shouted back, pushing his now crying son out the door towards the steps.

John paid little mind to the light, quick footsteps going down the stairs and tried to reach Mary.  The flames had started to reach the floor and he could smell burning flesh.  He locked eyes with his wife—she tried to smile and nod her head slightly.  John took the hint, spared one last pain filled glance at her and sprinted out the room, right before the flames covered his escape.

He crashed through the swinging front door onto the lawn, scooped up his sons and watched his house burn from across the street.  Distantly, he heard sirens coming around the corner.

“Dad, where’s mom?”

“Dead,” he growled out, not pleased that his mate is gone.

“What’s that mean?”

“Not now, Dean.”

“But Dad—”

John rounded on his kid. “Be quiet, Dean, now.” He put a hint of Command behind his words and Dean fell silent.  John sighed—he had promised himself to never use command on his own kids like his father had done.  He rested a hand onto Dean’s hair and rubbed it, pulling him closer in silent apology.

John vowed he’d find out what killed Mary and that he’d fix this.

\--

Dean didn’t talk for a year.  John blamed himself since it seemed like the Command stuck longer than needed.  Even when John tried to negate the Command, Dean was still silent.  Only when Sammy was starting to talk did Dean start talking again.  John relaxed and tried to never use the Command on them again.

\--

It was hard raising two boys while trying to hunt down Mary’s killer.  John pushed a lot of the responsibility onto Dean, especially on those nights where he couldn’t be there.  John knew he had control, but he wouldn’t risk another hunter getting word of his kids.

John knew that it was hypocritical of him to become something he himself hunted, but what better way to know the enemy.

Dean was seven; Sam, three when John met Bobby.  He managed to get the old hunter to house the boys while John took longer hunts.  So, three years later when Dean was ten, he didn’t think anything of it when he dropped them off and drove away for his monthly camping trip.

He went for a run; he hunted; he slept.  The next morning, he returned to his car where his phone was blinking with ten missed messages—all from Bobby.  John listened to the worried hunter and cursed.  They were all short, but each sounded more frantic than the last.  It seemed like Dean’s puberty happened a bit sooner than John hoped.  The signs must’ve been there, he just ignored them.  What a good parent he’s turning out to be.  Thank god Bobby didn’t kill the kid.

John didn’t bother calling Bobby back, instead just raced back to the house.

\--

Dean had been feeling  _ weird _ all week.  He couldn’t sit still.  He almost felt like he could burst out of his skin and run around.  When he had actually run around the yard of the motel, however, it didn’t help.  If anything, it made the feeling worse.  Everything spelled sharper and he could see further away than he ever had before.

He tried to ask Dad if this was a normal part of growing up, but he was brushed off and was told to get packed for Uncle Bobby’s.  The car ride was a very long three hours where Dean couldn’t stop fidgeting.  Sammy kept complaining, but Dean didn’t care.  After a while, Sam ignored him and started to read one of the books they “borrowed” from the library two towns ago.

Once they got to Bobby’s, Dean pushed the door open as fast as he could to be back on actual ground.  Better.  The fresh air was better, but not enough.  He started to stalk around the property, weaving through the cars.  Vaguely he could hear small footsteps following him.  He glanced back just in time to see Sammy slip on a wet patch of ground.  Dean didn’t think; he ran and caught the younger boy right before he hit his head on a car.

“Watch where you’re going, Sammy.” He helped his brother to his feet.

Sammy frowned. “How’d you get over here so fast?”

“What are you talking about?” replied Dean. “I was right here.”

“Boys, dinner!” Uncle Bobby yelled, cutting off Sam’s response.

“Come on, bitch, food!”

Sammy pouted. “Dad said you’re not supposed to say that word.”

Dean smiled and ruffled Sammy’s hair, causing him to cry out. “Hey!”

“Race you to the food!” Dean turned slowly enough for Sammy to get the message and start running.  He passed the smaller boy within what felt like two strides and was at the doorway when Sammy was still 10 feet away.  What the hell?  How’d he get so fast?

Sammy panted when he reached the door, scowling at Dean. “You got fast.”

“No, I didn’t.  Food.” Dean pushed Sammy into the house.

Dinner was uneventful, well if you don’t count the fact that Dean ate two servings of steak, all his vegetables (which he never does), the potatoes on his plate and in the serving dish, and four cookies.  All without getting sick.  Uncle Bobby stared at him throughout dinner as he scarfed down all the food, but wouldn’t say what was bothering him.

As the night wore on, Dean’s skin started to feel stretched tighter and tighter.  Something inside him ached to run outside.  He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs.

Uncle Bobby had sent Sammy to bed an hour ago, but Dean couldn’t sleep, even if he wanted to.  He stayed up in the library, pacing back and forth across the carpet, wringing his hands together.

“You’re going to wear a hole into the basement if you keep that up, boy.”

Dean glanced at Uncle Bobby, but continued pacing. “I feel like I’m going to explode or something.  Is that normal?”

Uncle Bobby frowned and walked over to the agitated Dean.  He rested a hand on Dean’s forehead. “No fever.  When did this start?”

Dean shrugged. “Last Monday, maybe.  I don’t know.  What’s wrong?”

“Your Daddy hunt any witches lately?”

“Don’t think so.  He always gets angry when it’s a witch and I didn’t hear him mumbling about them.  You think some witch cursed me?”

“It’s a possibility, but not likely.”

“Then what—ahh!” Dean doubled over in pain, hands clenched around his stomach.  Ants crawled under his skin, trying to push out, he screamed, dropping to the floor and curling up, hands gripping his sides tighter.

Distantly, he could hear Uncle Bobby calming a panicking Sam down and yelling into a phone.  A small hand touched his head and Dean flinched away, backing into one of the bookcases and curling up with his head buried in his knees.

“Dean?” Sammy asked, walking towards him again.

“No!” Dean shouted, tear-filled eyes locking with frightened ones.  His entire body shook with the effort it took him to hold in his screams.  Everything was loud, smells were too sharp, and even in the dim light, Dean could see Sam too clearly.  He didn’t want to hurt his little brother, and if it was contagious, he wanted him to stay away.

“Sam, give him some space.” Uncle Bobby knelt down in front of the trembling boy.   “What’s going on, Dean?”

Dean whimpered, clenching his eyes tight.  He shook his head, not willing to talk or even open his mouth.  The clock in the hall struck ten-fifteen and his entire body convulsed.  Dean yelped and landed on his side, still curled up.  Another convulsion went through him, his back arched, and the sound of ripping fabric filled his ears.  Tiny blond hairs—no fur—burst out of his skin.  He screamed as bones broke and reformed into something different.  The feeling of discomfort lessened, now only caused by the enclosed walls of the house.  Dean lay on the carpet panting, too tired to get up and run outside.  He shifted his arms—no paws—and claws clicked against the floor.

“Uncle Bobby, what happened?” Sammy asked.  Dean’s ear twitched towards the younger boy.

“Balls.”

\--

Dean drifted in and out the rest of the night.  He was too exhausted to do anything else.  Uncle Bobby was nervous.  He kept glancing at Dean, who had curled up on the rug, a bowl of water next to him.  Sammy had drifted off on the couch, hand reaching towards Dean off the side of the couch.  He was unafraid, knowing that Dean wouldn’t hurt him, and he was right.  The very thought of harming Sam caused him to growl deep in his throat.

He must’ve turned back sometime that morning (Uncle Bobby had thrown a blanket over his naked body) because he woke to the sound of the Impala door slamming and frantic footsteps up to the house.  Uncle Bobby tried to stop Dad at the door and explain what happened, but he pushed back him and headed right towards Dean.

Dad knelt in front of him, helping the worn-out boy sit up.  He ran his hands through Dean’s hair and over his arms.

“Dad?”

He sighed in relief. “You’re okay.”

“What happened?”

Dad frowned and hugged Dean tight against him, worrying Dean further. “I love you, you know that, right?”

Dean tried to pull away.  Something was very wrong. “Are you alright?”

“Fine, just fine.  I need to explain something to you boys,” Uncle Bobby coughed, “and Bobby, I guess.  Get Sammy up and get dressed and I’ll explain everything over breakfast.” Dean’s stomach growled loud enough to wake up Sammy.

“Wha—Dad!” he shouted and hugged the man.

“Go get dressed, both of you.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean replied, pulling Sammy upstairs.

Even though they walked away from the older hunters, Dean could still hear the two of them discussing what happened.  All that came out of the discussion was that Uncle Bobby would start making breakfast and Dad would give a thorough explanation.

They made their way downstairs and sat at the table.  Dad put the first plate of eggs and bacon down in front of Dean.  Dean tried to push it towards Sammy, but was stopped by his dad’s hand halting the plate.

“Not this time.  You need the energy.”

“But Sammy—“

“Sammy didn’t turn into a wolf last night.” The tension in the room sky-rocketed. “Eat.” Dean didn’t argue and took a bite of eggs, which turned into practically shoveling the entire plate into his mouth.  He hadn’t realized just  _ how _ hungry he was.  The second much less filled plate was set in front of Sammy, while Dean got the third one before Dad or Uncle Bobby even got their first.

“Explain, Winchester,” Uncle Bobby growled when it was just Dean and his dad left eating.  They were both slowing down at that point, though. “Last night was a full moon and your boy turned into a wolf.  What did you do?” Suddenly Dean wasn’t hungry anymore.  Was he a werewolf?  No, he would’ve had a bite somewhere.  Plus, he would be after hearts, right?

Dad sighed and swallowed his mouthful. “Let me start by saying that we’re not werewolves.”

We? “We?” Uncle Bobby caught onto the wording, too.

“The Winchesters are a born pack.  Not the heart-hunting werewolves, but normal wolves.  It’s passed down through the family, as far as I know it’s always been like that.  The pack had mostly died off by the time I was born, but it was due to old age and not hunters.”

“Werewolves are real?” Sammy asked.  Dean glanced wide-eyed at Dad.  Sammy didn’t know about the supernatural.

“Yes,” Dad replied.

“You turn into a wolf?” Uncle Bobby asked Dad.  He nodded.

“You saw Dean last night.”

“Are vampires and ghosts real?”

Dean didn’t know what to say to any of this.  His dad, the man who hated all things supernatural, was one of the supernatural himself.  How did he go around killing monsters when he was one?

“We  _ are not _ monsters, Dean,” Dad ground out, looking into Dean’s eyes.  Dean gasped, not realizing he asked that out loud.

“How am I not?  You said anything supernatural is a monster and I should shoot first and ask questions later!  If I’m part of the supernatural, then I’m a monster, right?”

Dad’s face dropped and he looked at Dean like he failed him. “That’s not…no.  Fuck.” He covered his eyes with his hand. “Dean, son, we may be part of the supernatural, but we aren’t the monsters.  We don’t kill.  We don’t destroy.”

“Then why…”

“I don’t know.”

“Will I get to turn into a wolf?” Sammy asked. “Why’d Dean get to do it now?  I want to change, too!”

“You’ll turn when you start puberty, Sam.  You just have to be patient.”

Sammy pouted. “I want to do it now,” he grumbled.

Dean choked down his fear, trying to be brave for Sammy. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, Sammy.  You saw me last night.  I was no fun at all.” He didn’t fool Dad or Uncle Bobby for a second.

“Still not fair.”

\--

The next month, Dad took Dean with him on his trip to the woods.  Sam wanted to come, but Dad explained that Dean needed to learn hunting skills and until Sam could change, it was better if he didn’t join them.

Dean sulked the entire car ride, staring out the window.  The whole month he did more research into family curses than anyone probably ever did, and it looked like whatever caused the Winchester line to change form was there to stay.  If it hadn’t been broken by now, it was highly likely it would never be.  There also wasn’t anything Dean could do to suppress the wolf inside.  He didn’t want it.  He just wanted to be normal human Dean again, even if it turns out that was never a thing to begin with.

The feeling of stretched skin and the urge to run had been with up since yesterday morning.  If this feeling was going to be a thing all the time, it was going to start to get annoying.

Dad parked the car next to a path leading into the woods.  The path that they were on now was already pretty discrete and the other path looked like it wasn’t used very often.

“Take off your clothes and leave them here,” Dad said, starting to strip.  Dean glanced back the way they came and then around the small parking area.

“Won’t someone see?”

“No one comes up this way.” Dad removed his boxers and Dean looked away to stare at  _ anything  _ else.  He still hadn’t started to remove his clothes. Dad sighed and slammed the door closed with his clothes inside. “You need to strip, otherwise you’re just going to rip your clothes again.  We can’t keep buying you new ones because you refuse to be naked for ten minutes in the woods.”

Dean pouted, but saw where his dad was going with the explanation.  He threw his jacket and shoes into the back of the car, but slowly took off his shirt and jeans.  He hesitated at his boxers.  What if he just left them on?  Worst case, they ripped.  He would probably grow out them them soon anyway.

Dad frowned. “Dean.” Dean glanced around, spotting no one but his dad, he shucked his boxers and threw them on top of his clothes.

“Why are we in the woods anyway?” he asked as they started to walk on the lightly tread path.

“We need to run, and I’m going to teach you how to hunt.”

“But I know how to hu—”

“Animals, food.  Changing takes a lot of energy and hunting some animal will help gain that energy back so you’re not starving the next day.  I’m also going to help you through this transformation, like I should’ve done last month.” Dad stopped walking. “Here’s good.”

They were still on the path, but a good 50 yards into the forest.  Dean could barely see the car through the trees.

“Changing should be fairly easy once you start to recognize the signs and let it happen.” Dean frowned and crossed his arms.  He didn’t want to be here.  He didn’t want to change into a freaking wolf. “Dean, I promise it’ll hurt a lot less and be a lot less uncomfortable if you willingly change.” Dean turned away from Dad and stared into the trees.  Dad walked over and lowered himself so he was lower than Dean. “Want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“No,” Dean ground out.

Dad moved from his kneeling position to sit cross-legged on the ground. “I was scared my first time, too.  I had no idea what would happen.  Sure, I knew the theory, but it was new.”

“It’s not my first time, though,” retorted Dean. “And I  _ didn’t _ know what was happening.  All of a sudden I’m in pain and then I turn into a fucking wolf!  Uncle Bobby almost shot me!  What’s to say another hunter won’t?!  I’m a monster!  Normal humans don’t turn into animals, or did you forget that, huh, Dad?” he shouted.

“Is that what’s been going through your mind this last month? I’m sorry I failed to explain all of this.” Dad kept his eyes locked with Dean’s. “I’m sorry you think you’re a monster.  I know you were looking for ways to break the curse, but don’t you think I did that once I learned exactly what else was out there?  There’s nothing.  No spell, no potion, no deal.  All I learned was that we aren’t like the heart-eating monsters we hunt.  We’re more powerful than them.”

“You hunted them as a wolf?”

Dad nodded. “What better way to hunt a werewolf than an actual wolf?  We keep our minds.  If anything, we’re closer to skinwalkers.”

“We hunt those, too.”

“…Yes, but only if they kill.  Please, let me help you change this one time, Dean.  Let me do what my dad did for me and teach you how to survive as a wolf.  If you never want to come out with me again, I understand, but please just this once.”

Dean bit his lip and looked away from Dad’s pleading eyes.  Dean didn’t want to do this alone, and Dad said they were different than the ones they hunt.  He nodded once, but didn’t release his arms.

From the corner of his eye, Dean could see Dad smile and move to sit on his knees. “Okay, close your eyes and relax.” Dean shut his eyes, but his body was still tense. “Come on, buddy, deep breath and uncross the arms.”

Dean dropped his arms and let them hang limply at his sides.  He breathed in and focused on the tingling under his skin.  Breathing out, he released the tension in his shoulders and twitched, the crawling starting to get painful.  Distantly, he heard the sounds of cicadas burrowing into trees and a squirrel darting along the ground.  He breathed in again and smelled the fresh water from a brook.  If he focused, he could hear it babbling away.

“Good,” Dad murmured. “You’re doing great.  The more you’re relaxed before you transform, the less it’ll hurt.” Dean tensed his shoulders.  He should’ve known it would still hurt. Dad shifted around Dean and gently rubbed his shoulder blades, helping to release the tension.  A shudder ran through his spine and Dean whimpered. “Don’t resist the change, Dean.  It’s going to happen no matter what.  You’re strong; you’re going to be fine.”

His back arched, bone cracking, and Dean collapsed onto the ground in Dad’s arms.  He screamed and curled into himself.  Fur sprouted over his skin and the bones rearranged themselves in quick painful bursts.  He lay panting on the ground.

A hand brushed the fur across his head and over his ears. “You did great, Dean.” Dean blinked slowly at Dad and sniffed at him. Dad ruffled his hair. “You try standing while I change.”

Dean worked at getting his legs under him while still watching Dad.  Dad took a deep breath, and on the exhale, his back arched, dark fur covered him, and he let out a few pained grunts.

The darker wolf nudged his muzzle against Dean’s neck and nipped affectionately at the scruff.  Dean whined, annoyed at the affection.  He backed away on shaky legs, but Dad followed and started to nudge him towards the tree-line.  Dean nipped at Dad’s snout, agitated, and Dad nipped back in reprimand.

A feeling of shame swept through him and Dean lowered his gaze in submission. Dad continued to nudge him gently towards the trees.

Once surrounded by the thick bark, sounds from the stream became muted, but the faint beating echoed from the distance.  Dean’s ears perked up and he started sniffing in the direction he could hear the beating.

The forest went by in a blur of trees and pine needles as Dean raced towards that sound.  The closer he got, the richer the scent was, and he pushed himself faster.  In the back of his mind, he registered Dad following behind him.

Sleeping on the ground was a full grown deer.  Dean slowed his approach and the deer flicked its ear towards the faint sound of another creature.  Dad bumped his nose into Dean’s backside, gesturing towards the deer.

The wind changed direction, bringing with it the delicious scent of the deer and Dean leapt into action, sprinting towards the helpless animal and biting it on the neck.

Hot blood gushed into his mouth and he swallowed the dark liquid.  The deer struggled its last breaths and went still.  Dad sniffed at the downed animal, nodded once, and ripped into the flank, pulling away skin, blood, and muscle.  Dean was too hungry to think about exactly  _ what _ he was eating, and ripped his own piece of flesh off.

Between the two of them, they managed to eat quite a lot of the deer before Dad took off at a run and Dean gave chase.

Running in this form was a brand new experience for Dean.  He could move much faster than on two legs, and he had no fear of running into trees or roots.

Towards morning, Dad taught Dean to follow scents, trusting the younger wolf to lead them back to the car.  It wasn’t that difficult: the Impala was home to Dean, and Sammy’s scent coated the car.  He would always find his way back to Sammy.

\--

Growing up, Dean always knew he was different.  Not only because he could turn into a wolf, but because he couldn’t figure out why everyone was so obsessed with sex.

Throughout high school, the boys Dean hung around with kept obsessing over the cheerleaders’ boobs and butts, but he couldn’t see the appeal.  He had tried to ask his dad about it once, but he got the brush off and a gruff ‘Go ask Bobby’.  Bobby didn’t really understand his issue, but he was sympathetic.

Dad had explained about mating to the boys after Dean’s second change.  It wasn’t an end-all-be-all for whom he’d end up with for the rest of his life, but he’d be drawn to that person.  Sammy asked Dad if he felt that way about mom, and he just nodded, looked sad, and ended the entire conversation.

\--

For how early Dean changed, Sam was abnormally late in coming into his abilities.  Years later, they would realize that the demon blood almost prevented Sam from changing, but that first winter night when a sixteen-year-old Sam sat trembling on the couch in their rented cabin was a day that Dean wouldn’t soon forget.

He had tried to get Dad to come home early from his hunt for Sam’s first change, but he wasn’t answering his phone.  Of course not.  He wasn’t there for Dean during his, so why would he allow himself to be home for Sammy’s.

“How do you deal with this every month?” Sam asked, rubbing his arms and pacing back and forth along the carpet.

“You get used to it.  Dad’s not coming.”

Sam’s face hardened. “Despite how much emphasis he puts on this wolf stuff, he’s never here for the big moments.”

“Don’t even start.  Strip.  It’s too cold to run outside, but we can relax here.  You won’t be able to run much anyway.” Dean had lost all modesty around his brother years ago.  Living in each other’s back pocket meant that they had seen everything there is to see on the other. 

Sam’s hands tightened for a second. “Is it going to hurt?” He asked, sounding like the scared little boy Dean raised.

Dean wanted to wrap him up in bubble wrap and not let anything hurt him, but reality wasn’t so kind, and Dean couldn’t lie to him.  Fuck, Sam had seen enough of their transformations to know it fucking hurt.

“Yes.  It hurts.  A lot, but it’s not so bad.  Your  body will get stronger, and over time, it’ll get used to the constant pain each full moon.” Sam breathed silently, deep in thought.

It only took a couple minutes of silent concentration before Sam pulled his sweatshirt over his head. “I think I‘m ready.” He pulled off the rest of his clothes and piled them on a chair.

Dean beamed. Sammy was so brave. “Okay, deep breath and relax.”

\--

When Sammy went off to college and Dad went hunting alone, his wolf ached.  His pack had left him without so much as a ‘by your leave’.  That first month, Dean tried to drown his sorrows in alcohol and sex.

The sex was messy and tedious, but he always made sure his partner was satisfied.  Most of the time he could get them to finish and pass out before they even realized he hadn’t.  He hated it, but it was the only way he could find to be close with someone.  He was always gone in the morning.

\--

Dean couldn’t believe his luck.  First, the ghost turned out to be much more powerful than he thought, even with his enhanced strength.  Second, his card at the motel was declined, so they kicked him out.  And third, he was almost out of hard cash so the bar he was getting drunk in was most likely going to throw him out soon.  Dean buried his head in his hands and groaned.

“Hey, hot stuff, can I buy you a drink?”

Dean tilted his head without moving his arms to glare at the offending person trying to pick him up.  He did not want to deal with messy sex on top of everything else, even if he did need a place to spend the night that wasn’t the Impala.  Maybe they would let him sleep on their couch in exchange for breakfast or something.

The wolf, who usually laid dormant in his mind this far away from the full moon perked up at the sight of the handsome stranger.  Dean dropped his hands and stared.  The guy drew Dean in just by standing in front of him.  He never wanted to let him out of his sight.  Never before did Dean have a crush like this, not since Robin at any rate, and even then, that was child’s play. He wanted to hide this man away and protect him with everything he had.  Nothing evil would touch him.  Dean would give up everything to spend the rest of his life with him.

Dean must’ve been staring too long since the man raised one eyebrow while he stirred his bright pink drink. “Uhh…” Real smooth, Dean. “Y-yes, sure, okay.”

The man signaled the bartender for another glass of whiskey and sat down on the stool next to him. “I’m Gabriel.”

“Dean.”

Gabriel smirked and took a sip of his drink. “What brings you to this part of Wisconsin?”

There was something  _ off _ about Gabriel that Dean couldn’t put his finger on.  Something  _ other _ , almost like static running over his skin and the taste of sugar in the back of his mouth.

“Just finished a job.  You?”

“Causing trouble.”

Dean took a sip of his drink, smirked and flirted right back. “What kind of trouble?”

“The trickster kind.”

Dean froze. “What?”

“Really, a full-grown wolf and you can’t even pick out a trickster when you smell one?” He took an exaggerated sip of his drink.

“How do you know that?”

“You’re not the most powerful monster on this totem pole, sweetheart.”

Now that he was focusing on the other monster, he could smell the sugary sweetness characteristic of tricksters.  The static was still dancing along his skin causing the hairs on his arms to stand up.  A baser instinct--even deeper than the wolf--told Dean to not piss off Gabriel or he would fuck him up.

Even knowing that, Dean still wanted to smother him in a blanket and protect him.  Usually Dean didn’t go for the other supernatural beings out there--too much to explain and too easy to find again.  He decided he didn’t care.  Maybe this feeling was what people meant when they said they wanted sex.  A large portion of women did want to spoon with him after.

He would stay at the bar, finish his drink, and see what happens.

“So,” he started, “did you just come over here to tell me you’re tricking people or was there a different reason?” Dean practically screamed hunter with his plaid shirts and ratty jeans.  He had a few creatures over the years run just from his look.

Gabriel winked and dropped a fifty onto the bar top. “Something just drew me to you.” He rested his hand on Dean’s thigh. “What do you say skip all the awkward flirting and head back to my place, huh?”

Dean swallowed thickly, quickly drinking the rest of his whiskey.  It felt like this was going way too fast, but he wanted to be as close to Gabriel as possible as soon as possible.  Was this...the bond?  If it was, Dean couldn’t risk Gabriel going home alone and never seeing him again.  He didn’t have enough to feel that buzz he was going for, but he could psych himself up on the ride to the guy’s house.

“Sure, let’s go,” he said quickly.  Gabriel’s hand lightened, seeming to flinch away, and his head tilted to the side.  Dean flashed a smile and rested his hand on top of Gabriel’s. “I’m good. Just been a long day.”

Gabriel seemed to accept his answer and slid off the bar stool, hand still wrapped in Dean’s.  “You have a car, right?” Dean nodded, leading Gabriel to the Impala.  Gabriel tugged him to a stop three cars down.

“Thought we were going to your place?”

He smirked. “My home isn’t exactly accessible by human means.” Dean tightened his hold; Gabriel’s eyes flashed down to their intertwined hands and back up. “Is that okay?”

Dean worried his lip.  If he needed to leave, it would be a lot harder.  The wolf growled, not wanting Dean to ever leave Gabriel’s side.  Dean took a deep breath.  He could do this.

“Yes.”

Gabriel wrapped his other hand around Dean’s neck and pressed their lips together.  His eyes slid shut and he slid an arm around Gabriel’s waist, pulling him closer.   _ This _ was the part of sex that he enjoyed.  Kissing was the highlight of his nights.

The light breeze around him disappeared and replaced with the light scent of sugar and the pitter-patter of small feet.

Dean pulled away and looked down at the small dog that ran up to them. “Fenrir, meet Dean; Dean, Fenrir.”

“Fen...rir?” The dog panted in response.

Gabriel rubbed the dog on his head, snapped his fingers, and pushed the dog towards the kitchen where food had just appeared.

“He’s not...the real…”

“No, no, but gods expect certain things, ya know?” Gabriel grabbed Dean’s hand and started to lead him towards the bedroom. “He’ll be occupied for a while and we can close the door.” The door shut softly.

“Take off your coat, stay awhile.” Gabriel dropped his hand and slipped off his coat and shoes.  Dean carefully removed his coat, laying it over a chair, but used his feet to carelessly remove his shoes.

“Geez, Dean-o,” Dean turned around to find Gabriel in only his boxers. “Any slower and you’ll be getting dressed again.” Gabriel watched hungrily as Dean pulled off his shirt, eyes roaming his torso and flicking down to his crotch.

Dean gulped and took stock of the abs peeking out.  He wasn’t all muscle, but he wasn’t just fat, either.  Meeting Gabriel’s eyes, he pulled down his pants, slipping off his socks on the way.

“Well, look at you.” Gabriel was laying on the bed, propped up on his elbows, legs spread, waiting.

Dean smiled and crawled on top of the trickster, connecting their lips.  This was good.  Kissing and solid hands against his sides, running slowly up and down, gently rubbing onto his stomach.

Dean wished he could return the favor, but he had to hold himself up so as not to crush Gabriel.  He gently thrust into Gabriel’s hips, hoping to help turn him on faster.  He felt a budge against his still soft dick.

Gabriel broke apart and sucked a hickey onto Dean’s neck, while Dean tried to will his dick into being hard.  This was his mate.  What was wrong with him?

Gabriel’s thumbs brushed over his nipples and Dean jumped from the contact.  He wasn’t expecting that.

Dean leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth while dragging his other hand to the other nipple.  Gabriel mewled and thrusted up.  He smiled around the nipple, glad that he could make his mate feel good.

He locked eyes with Gabriel and reattached their lips and tongues. He thrust against Gabriel again, hoping to make him make those sounds again.  It was the best sound.

Instead he made a questioning noise, raised his hips slightly, as if feeling for something and seemed to shrink back into himself.

“Stop.” Dean backed off immediately, sitting back on his knees.  Gabriel pushed himself up onto his forearms. “You’re not enjoying yourself.”

Dean blushed and the wolf whined in the back of his head--rejected by his mate.  He had hoped that Gabriel hadn’t noticed. “It’s...I’m fine.  I’m good.” Dean started to lean down again.

A hand on his chest stopped him. “No.” Gabriel moved back on the bed so Dean was no longer straddling him. “Either we both enjoy ourselves or nothing happens.”

Dean’s face was bright red. He got off the bed and began to put back on his clothes.  He got as far as pulling up his pants when Gabriel rested his hand on top of Dean’s. “Why are you leaving?  You don’t have to.  We can talk about this.”

Dean wrenched his hands away. “Talk about what?” he growled. “You want to talk about how big a fuck up Dean Winchester is that he can’t even keep his family together?  The fact that Dean Winchester can’t even love his fucking mate properly?  Or that maybe I thought that my problem was just that  _ everyone else _ wasn’t my mate, so of course I would have some performance issues.  But even when I finally meet them, they turn out to be the right kind of snarky and sweet that I usually go far, but my fucking dick is still soft, even after all of that! Is that what you wanted to talk about, Gabriel?”

Silence rang through the room, Dean’s harsh breathing breaking the fragile balance.

Gabriel stared, open mouthed, at Dean.  He blinked a couple times and shrugged. “So you’re asexual, so what?”

“A-what? I’m not a fucking plant.”

“Asexual.  It’s someone who doesn’t experience sexual attraction.”

“That’s not a thing.”

Gabriel gave Dean a dry look and snapped a desk and computer into existence.  The internet was open to a website called AVEN: the Asexual Visibility and Education Network.

“What is this?”

“A computer.  Thought you were smarter than that Dean-o,” he teased.

“Fuck you.  Is this site real?”

Gabriel squeezed Dean’s arm. “I wouldn’t lie to someone about this.  Read some of the pages.  See if that’s what you feel and when you’re ready to talk or go home, come into the kitchen.”

“You’re a trickster.  You trick people.  It’s in your name.”

Gabriel bit his lip and looked away.  He looked to be steeling himself for some sort of confession. “Dean, the mate business, that goes both ways.  I don’t want to talk about that right now.  Read the website.  Come find me later.” He pat him on his arm and walked out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

Dean gulped and sat down at the computer.

\--

Three hours later, he emerged from the bedroom and padded to the kitchen rubbing his eyes tiredly.  Gabriel pushed a cup of coffee into his hands, and Dean chugged it.  He burnt his tongue, but it healed within seconds and the coffee helped give him a slight jolt.  It was nowhere near enough to fully wake him up, but that was okay.  Dean needed to actually get some sleep soon.

“You were right,” he said after setting the mug down.  He slid into a chair at the table.  Gabriel sat across from him.

“I thought as much.  You okay?”

Dean shrugged. “I have a word now.  I’m not...broken.  It’s weird.  This whole thing is weird.  I met you four hours ago at a bar.  Why do I trust you so much?”

“The mate bond.  It’s stronger than a normal wolf bond might be because I’m not human.  I have my own bond with you, and it trumps yours.”

“I’ve never heard about tricksters having mates.  You going to explain that one?”

Gabriel twirled a coffee stirrer between his fingers. “I might’ve slightly lied about what I am.” Dean remained silent, waiting for Gabriel to elaborate. “I’m an angel.”

“You’re the archangel Gabriel?”

“Got it in one.” Gabriel smiled sadly. “I’m on the run from the fam.  Decided to become a trickster for shits and giggles.”

Dean grinned back at him. “That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”

Gabriel looked affronted. “Excuse you. I am not that predictable.”

“You kinda are.” He paused. “But I think only to me.”

Gabriel made a face. “Weirdly, that’s okay with me.”

“How’s this gonna work?”

“How’s what going to work?”

“You.  Me.  The no sex thing.  The hunting and supernatural creature thing.”

“Well, we don’t have sex.  Simple enough.”

“But you--”

“But me, nothing.” Gabriel cut off. “You don’t like sex. I have two very functioning hands and a lot of toys.  We won’t go any further than you want.  Dean, you set the rules.”

Dean blushed and fidgeted against the coffee mug. “I...I like kissing.  Anything above the waist is okay.”

“Cuddling?”

Dean bit his lip and nodded, embarrassed.

Gabriel grinned. “Cuddling is the best part.” He scooted his chair around so his shoulder bumped against Dean’s. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to give up serving out justice to dicks.  Is that going to be a problem?”

“The people you trick, they deserve it?”

“Every one.”

“Then, no.  Just, ahh, if you ever meet my family, maybe don’t mention you’re not human.”

Gabriel swung an arm around Dean. “Done and done.  I take it that means you’ll still be hunting.”

“Yeah.  We can meet up places since you can hop around and all.”

“Fly, not hop.   _ Fly _ .”

“Have you ever been on the receiving end of Angel Airways?  Just that short trip was not fun.”

“Excuse you, I am great at flying!”

Dean snorted and yelped at Gabriel’s playful swatting.

“Come on, Dean-o.  It’s been a long ass day and I’m tired.” Gabriel stood and held out a hand for Dean.

He hesitated.  What if Gabriel wanted more?  He said he didn’t, but everyone says things they don’t mean.

Gabriel smushed Dean’s cheeks in with both his hands, turning him to look at him. “Stop that thinking right now.  You run the show in the bedroom.  I will  _ never _ ask you for more than you can give okay?” Dean nodded as much as he could.  He almost started crying.  Everyone always tried to take as much of Dean as they could before he collapsed from exhaustion.  “Good, now, I was thinking for some quality cuddling time and falling asleep in each other’s arms.  That sound good?” Dean nodded again, not trusting himself to not start sobbing.

Gabriel released his face and gently pulled Dean into the bedroom.  He tossed him a pair of sweats and settled into bed as Dean changed.

Dean climbed in on the other side, heart beating hard.  How did he lie down?  On his back?  His side?  Facing Gabriel?  Was he the big spoon or the little spoon?

Gabriel snapped and the lights went out.  He shuffled over and wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist and threw a leg over one of his.

“You’re thinking too much.  You good?” he asked, looking up at the hunter.

Dean relaxed into the hold. “I’m good.” He turned on his side slightly to wrap his own arm around Gabriel. “Thank you,” he whispered right before drifting off.

\--

The ghost was ganked, the night clear, and Gabriel had texted Dean the latest thing he’d read in the tabloids ( _ Woman, 63, ‘becomes pregnant in the mouth’ with baby squid after eating calamari _ ).  Dean was pretty sure Gabe was going after some Squid poacher or something with that one.  It was a good day.

Except where Dean was driving Sam back to Stanford and his pack was breaking apart again.  Hopefully, this time he could at least keep in touch.

Dean glanced sideways at Sam. “Have you told her yet?”

Sam stared out the window at the passing scenery. “About what? Hunting? Or the fact that we turn into goddamned wolves once a month?”

“Both...either.”

Sam sighed. “No. It’s insane.  She’d just think I was crazy.

“Is she your…” Dean trailed off.  Asking if someone was your mate was super personal, and he remembered too late.

“Yeah. I think so.” He got a dopey smile on his face. “She’s perfect and sweet and beautiful.  Jess is training to be a nurse, ya know?  She loves helping people.  Anytime I think of something happening to her I just…” He shuddered.

Dean smiled. “I know what you mean.” He hadn’t mentioned that Gabe was his mate, not to Sam, and Sam had just thought all the phone calls and texts were a girlfriend or something.

“You found your mate?  You didn’t tell me that.”

“It’s not like we’ve been in touch these last few years, dude.” He shrugged. “‘Sides, they’re private, and we both have jobs that take us all over.  We meet up when we can.” It wasn’t particularly a secret that Dean liked guys, but he didn’t go around advertising it either.

“Doesn’t the distance make you worry more?  I probably won’t calm down until I get home.  How are you holding it together so well?”

Dean focused on the road.  It wasn’t like he could tell Sam that Gabe could just pop in and see him if he really missed the other.  Nor could he tell him that the only things powerful enough to really mess with his mate were his own brothers and God himself.

“Dean?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Sam.  Maybe we feel the mate bond differently.” They probably did, especially since he and Gabe have never had sex.  Maybe the bond solidified more if that happened, or it was because one partner was an angel.  He’d have to ask Gabe after he dropped Sam off.  They were going to meet up at a bar in town and Dean was going to drown his sorrows about his broken pack.

“Yeah, maybe.  It wasn’t like Dad knew everything about it, anyway.”

“I don’t think anyone ever did.  We’re a rare thing.  Even Bobby had trouble finding information about born-wolves.”

“Or they just stay off the hunting radar.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

They fell silent after that and Dean maneuvered the car back to Sam’s house.  He let the engine idle, not planning on sticking around for long, while Sam got out and retrieved his bag.

Dean leaned against the driver’s side door. “Stay safe, Sammy.”

He nodded. “You too, jerk.”

Dean smiled. “Bitch.”

Sam scoffed, but he was smiling as he turned around and entered his home.

Dean sighed and reached inside the car to twist the key out of the engine.  Something didn’t feel right.  He could almost feel eyes watching him.

His phone rang.

“Yeah?” he asked, distracted.

“ _ Dean-o, is that any way to talk to your mate?  You coming to the bar?  I kept your seat nice and warm. _ ”

“I ain’t sitting on your lap in a bar, Gabe.”

He laughed. “ _ Did you drop baby bro off? _ ”

“I’m still in front of his house.  Something’s...off.  I feel like I’m waiting for something major to happen.” By this point, Dean had spun in place scanning the surroundings.

“ _ Nothing’s pinged my radar.  Maybe some word from your dad. _ ”

Orange light flickered out of the corner of his eye.

“NO!” was shouted from inside the house.

Dean dropped the phone in the car and bounded into the house, breaking the front door in his haste.

Sammy.  He had to get Sammy.

Smoke assaulted his nose; his eyes watered; this was so much worse than when he was four.  Where was Sam?

He took the stairs three at a time and skidded to a halt behind a screaming Sam.  He looked up and saw Mom-- _ Jess _ burning on the ceiling.  It’s happening again.  Why does this always happen to him?  No, no, no.  Sam screamed, trying to get Jessica.  He couldn’t think of that now.

Get Sam.  Get him out.

He pulled at his baby brother, forcing him out of the burning bedroom, down the stairs and out the front door.  He couldn’t save Jess.  It was too late for her.

“Dean, Dean, please, I can save her. Let me  _ go. _ ”

He struggled against Dean’s tight hold on his upper arms.

Firefighters rushed the house with hoses and aimed towards the burning bedroom.

“Please, please, Dean, I can’t...she’s my... _ please, _ ” he pleaded.  Dean wrapped his arms around Sam, holding him against his chest as he heaved sobs and pleaded.

Dean couldn’t imagine what Sam was going through.

A soft pop signaled the arrival of Gabriel.  Dean frowned at him over Sam’s head.  This was  _ not _ the time for Dean to introduce his mate, not right as Sam lost his.

“They can’t see me or hear me,” he said and pecked Dean on the cheek. “There was a high level demon here.” Dean tensed. “They’re blocking their identity, but I’m gonna dig for a bit.  Get baby bro away from here.  States away.  Something’s up.  She wasn’t supposed to die now.”

Dean nodded and steered Sam into the passenger seat as a cop finally noticed them.

“Talk to the cop.  I’ll call you later and we can talk.”

Dean nodded and tapped out ‘I love you’ in morse code against his thigh.

Gabe smiled. “You always tap the sweetest things.” Dean just held up his middle finger.  Gabriel kissed the digit and vanished.

“Sir?” the cop asked.  Dean was flipping off thin air, so that would explain the look.

“Yes, sorry.  What do you need?”

“A statement from you and…”

“My brother.  He’s in no position to talk.  Listen, Sam went inside, screamed, I pulled him out.  I couldn’t save Jessica.  There was fire.  End of story.”

Dean scowled at the cop and tried to give off the most menacing feeling he could to make him back down and leave.  It seemed to do the trick since the cop left after getting Dean’s name and fake number.  He’d have to change plates again.

“Where are we going?” Sam asked five minutes into their drive.

“Away.”

“But...her funeral…” he protested weakly.

“Dude, whatever set that fire was not human.  We’re getting far away before it comes after us, too.”

Sam scowled. “Do you not even care that I just lost my mate or did that slip your fucking mind?”

Dean slammed on the brakes and pulled over. “Like I could forget it, asswipe.  I care a big fucking deal, but Sam, that fucker, whatever it is, not only killed Jess, but it killed Mom, and I’m fucking pissed that it took another one of our family.”

“Then why are we running?” he argued.

“Because if we stay in the area it’ll go after one of us and you’re getting too fucking heavy to carry out of burning buildings.”

Sam was silent staring out the window. “Look, I don’t get it.  I haven’t lost my mate, but use your anger and grief and channel it towards the motherfucker who fucked up our family.” He nodded. “Good.  We’re done with this Chick Flick.”


	2. In Which There are Disagreements and Movie Nights

“So get this, a university professor nosedives out of a fourth story window.”

Dean continued texting Gabe weird combinations of emoticons. “Uh huh.”

“There’s rumors that the place is haunted.  You up for a good old-fashioned ghost hunt?”

He dropped the phone and stretched. “Guess so.  Load up the car.  I’ll get some last minute snacks.”

They pretended to be press when they rolled into town and started interviewing some of the students.  Dean had tried this drink called a Purple Nurple, and holy shit, it was good.  He only had one, however, because he still had to function for the case.

The girl smiled and downed her shot. “I always love these after a hard day at classes, don’t you?”

Dean smiled. “It does seem to hit the spot.  You’ve been in school here how long?”

“I’m a second year grad.  Been here since undergrad, though.  I know _all_ the best places to just get away.”

He ignored her flirting. “Know any urban legends?”

She sighed and ran her fingers up and down his arm, leaning into him, showing off her cleavage. “I thought you were here to investigate the professor’s death.”

He leaned into her space. “I’m always a sucker for a ghost story.”

She licked her lips and squeezed his arm. “Is that so?  Well, legend says that a girl fell from the same building the professor did.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I heard that the professor she was fucking pushed her because she threatened to expose him.”

“Dean,” Sam said, cutting into their conversation. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He leaned out of her space, trying to separate his arm from her hand. “Sam, Star was just telling me--”

“We have a very serious investigation.  There’s no time for your drunken escapades.  Besides, you have a girlfriend.” Dean barely surpassed a flinch at ‘girlfriend’.  Gabe was definitely not a girl, nor just a girlfriend.  He was so much more.

Star stepped back. “You have a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, he does.”

“Sam, shut the fuck up.  Star, I wasn’t going to do anything with you.” That didn’t seem to help his case.

She pursed her lips. “I see.” She slammed money down on the bartop to cover her drink and collected her backpack from the floor. “Go fuck yourself.” Star stalked away.

“Thanks, dude.  We were talking about the case.” Sam rolled his eyes and stalked out of the bar towards the Impala. “Fine, be a bitch about it,” he said, following Sam into the car.

“You have a mate!  But you flirt with everything that moves!  Don’t you care?”

“Pretty sure flirting is partly my default setting.  Well, that and pie.  And I know I have a mate.  The flirting is to get more information, and if you hadn’t intervened, I might’ve gotten a name of the jumper from the stories.” Sam pouted in the passenger seat.  He pulled out his phone and thumbed over to Gabe’s text page.  Sam eyed his movements. “Have… case. Flirted… with… feisty… blonde… to… get… info.  Sam… being… bitch,” Here Dean put a dog emoji and pressed send. “Happy now?” He pushed his phone towards Sam so he could read it.

He bitchfaced at the last sentence, proving his point, but nodded.

The ride back to the motel to get their next disguise was silent until they were inside and Dean was halfway into his jumpsuit. “Gabe.”

Dean froze. “What?”

“The contact you sent the text to was named Gabe.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.  He forgot that Sam saw all the details. Dean jerked the top of the suit on.

“Is your mate male?”

Dean scowled. “Is that a problem?” There it’s out in the open.  His mate was a fucking guy.

“No… I just…” Sam looked like a kicked puppy. “I’ve been saying girlfriend and you’ve never corrected me.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“But, dude--”

“Sam, Gabe and I have a good thing going, and telling my whiny little brother that my mate was a dude was not something that needed to be discussed.  It’s not a big deal, so drop it.”

“Is that why you guys travel separately?”

“No.” Dean threw an EMF meter at Sam. “I wasn’t giving up hunting and he wasn’t giving up his job.”

“You mentioned that before.  What’s he do?” Dean ignored Sam and stalked to the car.  The ride to Crawford Hall was filled with Sam trying to get as much information as he could from Dean, but Dean wasn’t talking.

The closer they got to Crawford Hall, the more nervous Dean seemed to get.  It almost felt like he was going to change soon, but the full moon was three days ago.  This feeling only appeared when Gabriel and he--oh fuck.  He did say he was on a chase.  But here? Now?

Dean psyched himself up as they walked towards the building.  He could do this.  Just pretend you don’t know your own mate.  No big deal.  At least he didn’t get aroused just by standing near him.  That makes pretending a whole lot easier.  No pesky pheremones giving him away to Sam’s stupid bloodhound nose.

The building door opened and Gabriel stood there, mop in hand, and smirk on his face.  His eyes roamed up and down both Dean and Sam, lingering on Dean’s lips before flicking up to meet his eyes.  Dean tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t help his lip twitching in amusement.  Out of everything Dean’s seen Gabriel in, this has got to be the most ridiculous outfit, and that’s counting his dumb mustache for the porn he’s in.

Dean remained silent, knowing that if he opened his mouth to do the spiel, he’d just start laughing.  Sam glanced at him, annoyed but introduced themselves as the electricians.

Gabriel led them upstairs and let them into the office, making small talk.  Dean managed to avoid laughing at his mate the entire time there, but Gabriel’s dedication to the part really tested that ability.

Sam and he grilled Gabriel about ‘Mr. Morality’ (and Dean knew that there was a reason why he was targeted) while searching the room for EMF.  Well, Sam was searching the room for any EMF; Dean was eating the nuts the dead guy had on his desk.  There wouldn’t be any EMF unless Gabriel made there be EMF.  Actually, that would’ve been a good way to get them through the town quickly and without any trickster related incidents.

“He was with a young lady. I told the cops about her, but uh, I guess they never found her,” Gabe said.

Sam glanced at Dean, sharing a glance.  In any other case, that would be code for a ghost, hands down. “You saw this girl go in, huh? But did you ever see her come out?”

Gabriel looked thoughtful. “Now that you mention it, no.”

“You ever see her before, around?” Sam asked.

He smirked. “Well, not her.”

Dean still had a few nuts in his mouth, but he didn’t care. “What do you mean?” he asked around them.

Gabe shrugged. “I don't mean to cast aspersions on a dead guy, but uh . . . Mister Morality here? He brought a lot of girls up here. Got more ass than a toilet seat.” Dean laughs and Gabe grins at him, sending a wink in his direction.  Sam scowled at both of them.

“One more thing,” Sam said, “This building, it only has four stories, right?” He started to put away the EMF meter.

“Yeah.”

“So there wouldn't be a room six-six-nine?” The fuck was Sammy talking about?  He got some weird info from his witness.

“'Course not. Why do you ask?”

Sam smiled innocently. “Aw, just curious. Thanks.”

\--

They headed back to the motel and changed into normal clothes.  Sam ran out to get some cheap dinner while Dean called Gabriel.

“ _Hello, light of my life, jelly to my peanut butter, flower to my crown._ ”

“A janitor, really?” Dean asked.

Gabriel laughed. “ _You know you loved it.  I could see it in your eyes._ ”

Dean snorted. “The only thing I saw was a trickster taking everything insanely too far for something you could’ve passed off as a ghost hunt.”

“ _Where’s the fun in that?_ ”

“It’s safer, and we would’ve been gone by the end of the night.  Now, you’re stuck with us.”

“ _Maybe I wanted to be stuck with you_ ,” he mumbled.

“What was that?”

“ _You heard me.  Dinner and a movie, tomorrow, my place?_ ”

Dean smiled softly. “Sounds good,” he said just as Sam reentered the room.  He didn’t try to get rid of the sappy smile that graced his face. “I’ll see you later.”

“ _Love you, snookums_ ,” he gushed.

“Love you, Gabe.” Dean closed his phone and set it next to him, staring at it.  He was broken from his trance by a carton of Mexican food shoved under his nose.

“You look happy.  Good news?” Sam asked.

Dean blushed and grabbed his food. “Shut up, jerk.”

“I don’t mind if you go out and meet him.  Take a break.  I didn’t know he was nearby.”

“I keep him updated on hunts.”

“He knows about hunting?” Sam asked hesitantly, probably remembering that Jess _didn’t_ know about the supernatural and she died.

Dean nodded, mouth filled with delicious chicken tacos. “He kinda figured it out.”

“Are you that obvious?”

He scowled. “He’s had experience with hunters before.  I am not _obvious_.”

Sam looked smug. “Then how’d he guess?”

Dean sputtered. “Fuck you, Sammy.  What new info do we got?”

\--

Sam’s computer got a virus from the porn site Dean went on periodically (only to pretend to be a sexual male to his brother). While he was sort of ready to reveal that he liked guys, there was no way he’d address the asexuality issue right then.

They talked with Curtis, a pledge master for one of the frat houses, and he claimed he was abducted by aliens, probed, and made to slow dance. Dean suspected he coerced women into sex quite often for the amount of times he was probed.  The slow dancing seemed to be just as equally traumatizing and that confused Dean.

Their investigation brought them out to the crop circle in the middle of a field and Dean played dumb, despite knowing exactly whom had made the damn thing in the grass.  Gabe really went all out on this prank.  This was more than just a prank against Curtis, but also a prank against Sam and Dean.

People were more likely to believe the crazy frat boy if there was evidence pointing towards an actual alien abduction.  Without the crop circle, Sam would probably insist that the kid was playing a joke on them.

They managed to talk with one of the new pledges from Curtis’ house and found out that the guy was a grade A dick.  Sam tried to comfort the kid, but it didn’t work they way he wanted it to.  Fuck, the kid looked worse for wear from the hug than his frat bother claiming to be an alien’s bitch.

Dean vowed to remember the look on the kid’s face forever.  It was gold.

They went back to their hotel.

Dean flopped down on the bed and pulled out his phone, intending to text Gabe to meet up. “Still doesn't make a lick of sense. But, hey, at least there's one connection,” he said.

“Between what?” Sam asked, still standing.

“The victims. The professor and the frat guy -- They're both dicks.”

Sam bitchfaced and turned towards the table. “That's a connection?”

Dean rolled his eyes and texted a smiley face. “You got anything better to go on, I'd love to hear it.”

Sam dug through his bag, trying to find something. “Where's my laptop?”

“I don't know.” Dean glanced at Sam, still searching and getting more frustrated.  His bag wasn’t that big, how’d he lose it?  Fuck, the hotel wasn’t even that big. “Think about it. A philandering professor gets a dead girl. A pledge master gets hazed.” If you want to call gang rape and slow dancing a hazing.

“I left it in here,” he insisted, holding up the bag for emphasis.

Dean scowled and texted Gabe the address of the bar on the corner. “You obviously didn't. I mean, these punishments—they're almost poetic. Actually, it'd be more like a limerick, but still --”

Sam stalked towards the bed, and, by extension, Dean. “Okay, hilarious. Ha ha. Where'd you hide it?”

“What, your computer?” What was with him and his fucking computer?

“Yeah, where'd you hide it?”

“Why would I take your computer?”

Dean couldn’t believe Sam right now.  Him, steal his computer?  Sam should know that that wasn’t something he’d do.  They’ve lived together for how many years now?

“Because no one else could have, Dean! We keep the door locked. We never let any maids in.”

Dean scowled and threw on his coat. “Looks like you lost it, Poindexter.”

“Dude, you know something? I put up with a lot from you.”

Oh, he was going to say it like that, then fine, he a bitch. “What are you talking about? I'm a joy to be around.”

“Yeah? Your dirty socks in the sink, your food in the fridge.” He gestured towards the mini-fridge with the couple day old Chinese food.

“What's wrong with my food?” Chinese food didn’t go bad for at least five days.

“It's not food anymore, Dean! It's Darwinism.”

“I like it,” he insisted.

“All I ask from you, the one thing, is that you don't mess with my stuff!”

Sam was silent for a good thirty seconds before Dean asked, “You done?”

“You know, how would you feel if I screwed with the Impala?” he threatened.

Dean shoved his phone into his pocket and grabbed the keys off the table. “It'd be the last thing you ever did.” He left the room and slammed the door behind him.  Fuck him and his stupid accusations.  Like he would ever steal his computer.  Use, maybe, but never steal.

Dean knew what it was like to have nothing, so he wasn’t about to take someone else’s stuff, especially not a computer.

“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” Gabe asked, leaning against the building.

Dean growled and grabbed onto Gabe’s extended hand and pulled him towards the alcohol, still at his fast pace.

“Buy me enough booze to get me drunk.”

“Did Sam piss you off that much?”

Dean froze and slowly turned towards Gabe. “How did you know I was pissed at Sam?  What did you do?”

He nervously chuckled. “...Nothing.”

Dean growled and shoved Gabe against an alley wall.  If Dean focused, he could get his nails to become claws that dug into his chest.

“Fix it.”

Gabe gulped and snapped. “There. Computer back, safe and sound.” He glared at the angel, then sighed, resting his head on Gabe’s shoulder.  His claws shifted painfully back into fingers and he gripped Gabe’s jacket weakly.

“You’re an asshole.”

Gabe chuckled and rubbed Dean’s head. “But I’m your asshole.  Want to head back to my place and talk about it?”

“Not really, but you’re going to take me there anyway.”

His hand didn’t stop moving, slowly calming Dean down.  It was too close to the full moon for this shit. “Well, I did promise dinner and a movie.”

“Fine.  Take us home,” he said automatically.

The air around them changed--going from damp alleyway to pumpkin-spiced hallway.  Gabe kissed him on the forehead and lead him over to the couch where pizza, popcorn, and sweets were set up on the table.

Dean sunk into the couch and didn’t touch anything.  Did he actually just say that?

“What’s wrong, sugarplum?”

Dean met Gabe’s eyes, nervously biting his lip. “I… I called this home.”

Gabe grinned. “Do you want this to be your home, too?  I don’t mind.  You could live here way more often, then.  We can even set up the front door to open in different places so you don’t have to stay in hotels, like in Howl’s Moving Castle.  It’ll be brilliant!”

“I would love to.  Nothing sounds better than that.  But…” Dean frowned and looked away.  Gabe rubbed his arms soothingly.  Dean wasn’t moving as he sat in Gabe’s arms.

“Sam, right?” Dean nodded, mutely.  Gabe sighed, still rubbing his arms. “I get it, Dean-o.  This can still be your home.” Dean made a questioning sound and looked back up at Gabe. “Just because you travel one hundred percent of the time, doesn’t mean you can’t have a home to come back to.  I would love if you called this place your home.  I’ll even let you put some art up on the walls.”

Dean smiled. “Thanks.” He grabbed a slice of pizza and tucked himself into Gabe’s side.  “Now, you promised me a movie, and where’s that annoying dog of yours?”

“Ours.”

He took a large bite. “No, yours.  I take no ownership of that mutt.”

Gabe pouted, but started the movie regardless. “No love.  There’s no love in this relationship.”

“Shut up and watch the movie.”

Gabe threw some popcorn at Dean, who unsuccessfully tried to catch some with his mouth.

“He’s at the vet.”

“Shh, the movie’s on.”

 

\--

Dean came home (with breakfast) to a much calmer Sam who was awake doing research.

“Have you been up all night?”

Sam shook his head. “I got up an hour ago.”

“I brought food.” He held up the plastic bag.  As Dean held out the container, he almost asked about the laptop, but thought better of it, choosing not to start a fight.  He sat down across from Sam and dug into his scrambled eggs.  Gabe had made them, and Dean was pretty sure there were sprinkles mixed in.  Dean poked at the blue dot.  Yep, that’s a sprinkle.  What the fuck?

Sam took a bite of his (normal) eggs, and glanced at Dean.

“How was Gabe?”

“Good.  It was good. We watched a movie, ate dinner, relaxed.”

Sam looked at him strangely. “That’s very...tame, for you.”

“What’s that mean?” He savagely took a bite of rainbow eggs.  Next time Gabe made these for him, he was going to throw them at his fucking face.

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know, man.  Usually when you go out, you come home with a wild sex story or something.  Plus, you usually smell of sex.  Not this times.  Are those sprinkles in your eggs?”

“I’m more mature now.”

Sam snorted. “Says the man with rainbow eggs.”

Dean growled. “Fucking Gabe made them. Not me.”

“Did… did he think you needed more sweetness in your life?” he asked between laughter.

“Fuck you.”

All Sam did was laugh.

“Did you figure out what we’re hunting yet, Giles?”

“It’s not a ghost.”

“We knew that.” Sam bitchfaced.

“It’s not a demon, either.”

“Well, no shit.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I found my laptop in the trash, so whatever it is that’s messing with people, it gave it back.”

“Why were you looking in the trash?”

“My laptop was in the trash.  The thing is lucky we don’t let maid’s in.”

Dean rolled his eyes and scraped up the last of his eggs. “The next trick might’ve been actually letting them in so you never have your laptop again.”

“I just think it’s weird that he gave it back.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, getting up and throwing away his trash.  Sam handed over his empty carton, too.

“Well, this things is causing chaos, and he got us fighting over one thing.  If he didn’t give it back, I would still be pissed at you, well, more than I am.”

“What did I do?”

“Your socks in the sink and the Chinese food.”

“The socks were drying, and the food is still good.  We got it three days ago.” Dean grabbed his socks out of the sink and threw them into his bag.  They’d have to go do laundry soon.  He sat down and counted out bills to make into a roll of quarters. “How do you know he gave it back and you just didn’t finally notice it in the trash?”

“It fell into the trash and made the whole thing tip over.  You were gone for a while when it happened.  It was definitely the monster.  What made him give it back?”

“Change of heart.” Dean shrugged.

Sam shook his head “I don’t think so, dude.  I think we should call Bobby and see what he has to say.”

Dean shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt, I guess.”

Sam called Bobby and filled him in on what they were hunting.  He had a couple suspicions and decided to drive down to meet them and give them a hand.

Dean couldn’t get a word out before the police called about another victim.  Sam and Dean donned their suits and left for the morgue.

\--

The dead guy turned out to be a research scientist that tested on animals.  Dean personally thought the guy got what was coming to him, and almost said so, but he didn’t really want to deal with Sam’s disapproval.

They searched the sewers, found nothing, and went back to the hotel to shower.

Bobby showed up around lunch time and they spent an hour explaining the case to him.

“You got a trickster on your hands.”

“That’s what I thought,” Dean said.

“What? No, you didn’t,” Sam countered.

“The laptop was the biggest clue.  Strange that they gave it back though.”

“What do you mean?”

“These things create chaos and mischief as easy as breathing, and it could’ve got you so turned around and at each other's throats, you couldn’t even think straight.  So why’d it stop its tricks?”

“Like I told Sam, change of heart.”

“Dude, it’s even _less_ likely that that’s the reason now!”

“Excuse you, that’s a fine reason.”

“No, Sam’s right, that can’t be it.  Something must’ve happened.  Doesn’t matter why, but don’t question it.”

“So, what is this thing?” Sam inquired, “Spirit, demon, what?”

“Well, more like demigods, really. There's Loki in Scandinavia.” Dean twitched. “There's Anansi in West Africa. Dozens of them. They're immortal, and they can create things out of thin air. Things as real as you and me. Make them vanish just as quick.”

And the other tricksters were also dicks.  Gabe liked to take them down a few pegs, too.  It was always fun to try and trick a trickster.

“You mean like an angry spirit or an alien or an alligator,” Dean said, referring to the illusions.

“The victims fit the M.O., too. Tricksters target the high and the mighty, knock them down a peg, usually with a sense of humor -- deadly pranks, things like that.”

Sam looked thoughtful. “Bobby, what do these things look like?”

“Lots of things, but human, mostly.”

Dean really didn’t want to bring more attention to Gabe, but if he didn’t, they might get suspicious.  He mentally sighed, and said, “And what human do we know who's been at ground zero this whole time?”

\--

Pretending to have a fight to get alone with Gabe was simple.  Sam left and Dean went in search of his boyfriend.  He found him in the auditorium.  A bed with some pretty girls was on the stage.  They didn’t try to seduce him, only watched.  Dean could smell the sugar and magic coming off of them.  It was sickly sweet and Dean scrunched up his nose.

He heard the wings before he smelt the familiar scent of Gabe.  He snapped and Dean spun, stake held up, trying to keep up appearance.

“You’re reflexes are perfect as always, Dean-o.” Dean frowned at Gabriel. “The others will hear a conversation that they expect. Me seducing you with the girls, you threatening me, etc, etc.”

“Is that how you think the conversation would go?”

“Well, duh.” Gabe started to walk towards him. “The image your family has of you is heterosexual male with a high sex drive, right?  So, happy ending, it is!  And of course, you have a job to do, so you’d resist,” Gabe was only a few steps away now. “And then you’d threaten me.” Gabe kissed Dean gently. “I would bargain, you would refuse, and then baby brother and Bobby would come in.” Instantly, Gabe was an entire row over, the girls were standing looking flirtatious, and the doors were opening.

Gabe looked back and forth between Sam and Bobby. “That fight you guys had outside -- that was a trick?” Dean smiled. “Hm. Not bad. But you want to see a real trick?” He snapped.

A masked man in a chainsaw appeared above Sam and charged him.  The women immediately started to fight Dean.

As Dean fought, he could hear Gabe cheering in the background as Dean got thrown at the seats.  He managed to keep hold of his stake and stood slowly.  The girls hung back, waiting until he was ready.

If he kept fighting, there was a very real possibility that he’d have to stab Gabe in the chest.  Sam and Bobby were too far away (and dealing with the chainsaw guy) to do it themselves.  Dean wasn’t strong enough to stab his own mate.

“Gabe, Gabe, stop.” The conjurings froze.

“Gabe?” Sam echoed.

“Who the fuck is Gabe?” Bobby asked, looking at Dean.

“What?  Was it the chainsaw guy?  The blades aren’t even that sharp.”

Dean shook his head, dropped his stake and took a half step back.  He couldn’t figure out if he wanted to hug Gabe like he’d never see him again, or bolt from embarrassment.  He _knows_ the stake won’t kill him.  Why’d he have to go and blow his cover now?

“I--I can’t.”

“Dean,” Sam shouted. “Whoever you’re seeing is _not_ the real Gabe.”

Gabe chuckled and the conjurings all melted away.

“Actually, Sam-a-lam, I am the real Gabe, mate to the one and only Dean Winchester.” Sam gripped the stake tighter, only to startle when the wood vanished. “Dean-o, would you like to chime in, here?” Gabe glanced at Dean.

Dean nodded and swallowed the bile that threatened to come up. “Sam, Bobby, this is Gabe.  Gabe; Sam, Bobby.”

“Boy, Sam’s right, he’s not the real Gabe.  You have to believe us.” Dean scowled and dug out his phone.  He had at least one picture of the two of them on there.  He clicked through the pictures and found the one he was looking for.  He tossed the phone to Sam.

“It was taken New Years.  Now, can we stop with the threatening?”

“Your mate is the trickster?” Sam asked, finally getting the point.

“Yes.”

“A trickster that kills people,” Bobby continued.

Dean shrugged.  He looked at Gabriel for some help, but he smiled and took a bite of the chocolate bar he held.

“You told me not to tell them I was a trickster.  You spilled the beans, sugarplum.”

“You _knew_ he’s a trickster and you didn’t stop him?”

“Stop him how?  He’s my mate!  If Jessica was a trickster, would you have stopped her?”

Sam scowled.  Dean knew that was a low blow, but he had to get his point across. “Not in the way you’re thinking.”

“I can’t kill him.  I can’t stop him.  You don’t think I made sure that the assholes that die deserve it?”

“He’s still killing people, Dean!”

“I only kill when there’s no chance of them learning from a tamer lesson.  If I just killed people, you’d think I’d have a lot more hunters on my tail.”

“There’s still a body count!  How do you know he’s not tricked you into thinking that he’s your mate?!”

Dean bristled. “How dare you--”

Just because you’re fucking him, Dean--”

“I’m not,” he cut in.  He had enough of Sam badmouthing Gabe.  He didn’t care that he just outed himself to Sam and Bobby.

“--Doesn’t mean you can let him kill innocents.”

“Oh, they’re far from innocent,” Gabe added.

“Not helping,” Dean ground out.

“That’s it?  That’s all you have to say to him?”

Dean clenched his fists. “I’m not his fucking keeper!”

Sam stepped closer, a foot away now.  His jaw clenched, eyes blazing. “That wasn’t what I was implying--”

“Then what were you implying?”

“If you would take some responsibility for once in your life--”

“Responsibility?!  Who do you think raised your ungrateful ass?”

A hand smacked him on the back of the head and he jerked forward, almost hitting Sam, who had also jerked forward.

“Shut up, ya idjits.”

“What the fuck, Bobby?” Dean shouted.

“You’re both bein’ fuckin’ morons.  Neither listenin’ to the other.” Gabe opened his mouth. “You ain’t helpin’.  Boy, I’m mighty disappointed in you,” Bobby told Dean.

Dean slumped.  He hated disappointing Bobby, but he knew this entire situation was mostly his fault.

Gabriel put his hand on Dean’s shoulder in comfort. “Dean--”

“Stay away from him,” Sam ordered.  Sam was also at fault for starting the yelling when Dean was only trying to stop the fighting and not pretend-kill his mate.

Gabe took a step back and held up his hands. “I’ll just go.  Call me when you’re let off your leash.” Gabe vanished with a flap of invisible, but not silent, wings.

“I’m leaving, too,” Dean stated, turning around to head somewhere else to call Gabe.

“Don’t go,” Sam Commanded.  Dean jerked and closed his eyes against the anger.  He pursed his lips and slowly turned towards Sam.

“Did you just try what I think you tried?”

Sam shrunk into himself, knowing he was not the alpha of this pack.

“You dare--”

“Dean!” Bobby barked. “Shut up.  Your anger is not helping.” He turned to Sam. “Neither is yours. We’re goin’ back to the hotel and we’re goin’ to work this crap out.  Calmly.  Then, you’re goin’ to invite that boy of yours down here and introduce him properly.  Understand?”

“Yes, Bobby,” Sam mumbled.

Bobby glared at Dean, who had yet to answer.  He scoffed and shifted in place, still angry. “Sure, Bobby.  Let’s go.”

The drive back was tense.  Sam refused to sit in the front with Dean (even at the expense of his leg room) and sat in the back moodily staring out the window.  Bobby sat in the passenger seat, mumbling under his breath about dumb idjits.  Dean gripped the wheel in tight fists, music turned up loud enough that even if someone tried to speak, he wouldn’t be able to hear it.

Talking about his feelings was the last thing that he wanted to do, but he also wanted his mate and pack to get along.  Dean knew it was a long shot, especially since Gabe had killed people, but he hoped.

They filed into the room and sat around the table.  Bobby grabbed three beers and dropped them on the table. “Speak, boy.”

Dean popped open his beer and took a fortifying sip. “A few months after Sam left for Stanford, I met Gabe in a bar.  We clicked and have been together ever since.  Gabe told me he was a trickster within our first conversation.”

“And you trusted him?” Sam asked.

“He was my _mate_.  Of course I did.”

“And you didn’t think that, as a trickster, he would be lying to you so you didn’t kill him?”

Dean frowned. “You’ve felt the mate bond, Sammy.  You know that feeling where you’d do anything to protect them?  That’s what I felt.  He was an all-powerful trickster, and I wanted--still want--to wrap him in bubble wrap and keep him safe.” Sam nodded reluctantly. “He gave me a home, and for the first time, I didn’t feel broken.”

“Why didn’t you try to stop his pranks?” Bobby asked.

Dean picked at the label on his beer, not really drinking it, just letting it get warm between his hands. “Why would I ask him to stop bringing down dicks when I wouldn’t stop hunting?  It wasn’t fair to him.  He never goes after anyone who didn’t deserve it.  Most don’t even die, just get so scared that they’d never do what they did again.”

“He killed two people in this town,” Sam refuted.

“To be fair, the professor jumped out the window.  Gabe didn’t have the ghost push him or anything.”

“And the alligator?”

Dean shrugged. “The guy probably would’ve been fine if he let go of whatever caused him to stick his hand in the sewer.  Only would’ve been a little mauled.  His pranks are deadly, yeah, but only to those who wouldn’t learn any other way.  That frat boy--nothing deadly there.  Traumatizing for the rest of his life sure, but he was at no risk of dying.”

“How often do you know about the deaths?”

“Not...often.  Once in awhile I’ll see in the news an article about someone who died in a weird way.  Sometimes I know Gabe was going after someone in that town, or in that situation, but he doesn’t tell me about them and I don’t ask.  He doesn’t like when they die any more than we do.”

“What’s confusin’ me,” Bobby started, “is his name.”

“What?” Sam asked.

Dean froze. “His...name?”

“Who ever heard of a trickster named Gabe?” Bobby asked.

“Could he be lying?” Sam replied.

“Probably.  He’s not a low level trickster.  Not with those tricks.”

“His name is Gabriel,” Dean interjected. “He didn’t lie to me about that.”

“That makes less sense, though, dude.  Something’s off about him.  The whole time we were in that room it felt like my hair was standing on end.  Did you feel it?”

Dean’s response was to drink more of his beer.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Boy, what aren’t you telling us?”

Dean refused to meet their eyes. “It’s not my secret to tell.”

“He’s more than a trickster, isn’t he?” Dean stared past Sam at the back wall. “Is he a demon?  Is that why you won’t tell us?”

“No!  He’s not a demon.  He’s...he’s just on the run and the more we talk about it, the more likely his family will hear.”

“How?” Sam asked.

“He never really explained it to me.”

Sam was deep in thought while Bobby finished his beer.  Dean was still picking at the label, trying not to pull the entire thing off in the tense silence.  He wanted to call Gabe and have him come and pick him up.  He wanted out of this conversation.

“Well, you goin’ to introduce us properly to that boy of yours?”

Dean nodded nervously and tapped his phone against the table. “You’re not going to try and kill him or anything, right?”

Sam bitchfaced and Bobby just stared at him like he was crazy.

“Fine, fine.” Dean typed out a message and hit send.  A few seconds later, the sound of wings came from the door, and a knock. Dean knew he was the only one to recognize the wings for what they were.

He readied himself as he opened the door, not knowing what to expect on the other side.

Turns out Dean worried for nothing because Gabe looked completely normal.  He was no longer dressed in the janitor’s outfit, instead wearing jeans and a jacket.  He looked cocky, but Dean could tell he was nervous as fuck.

Gabriel stepped inside and closed the door gently behind him.

“Well, isn’t this homey?” he stated more than asked.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Play nice.”  He grabbed new beers out of the fridge for the three humans and tossed a candy bar from his bag over to his mate.

Dean and Gabriel sat down at the remaining chairs around the table.  Gabriel scooted until his chair was next to Dean’s, shoulders almost touching.

“I’m always nice.”

Sam bitchfaced. “You tried to kill us an hour ago.”

Gabe dismissively waved his hand. “You would’ve been fine.” Sam didn’t look any happier, if anything, he bitchfaced more.

“Stop,” Bobby said. “You’re not here to start another pissin’ match. You’re Dean’s mate, and we wanted to meet you.”

Gabe grinned, pleased that Bobby had sassed him. “I like you.  Not taking any shit from a being a hundred times more powerful than you.  You have balls, Robert Singer.”

Bobby scowled. “It ain’t like you’re going anywhere.”

If anything, Gabe smiled wider at those words. “Not if I can help it.”

There was an awkward silence. “Right,” Bobby mused. “Where’d the name Gabe come from?”

Gabe shrugged. “Dad came up with it.” Dean snorted.  It always amused him when Gabe called God ‘Dad’.

“They don’t believe a trickster can be named Gabriel.”

“Well, they’re right about that.” Gabe glanced around the room and snapped his fingers.  Sigils flared to life on the walls, burning into the cheap wallpaper.  Dean could figure out that they were warding runes to block out demons and angels.

“What I’m going to tell you cannot leave this conversation.  I’ve been in hiding for a long time, and if they find me, especially now, we’re all SOL.  Agreed?” Bobby and Sam nodded. “I am a trickster, I didn’t lie about that.  That group knows me as Loki, but my real name _is_ Gabriel; I’m an angel.”

“You knew about this?” Bobby asked Dean.

He nodded. “Gabe told me when we first met.  The mate bond goes both ways because of it.”

“So...angels are real?” Sam asked softly.

Gabe smiled sadly and nodded. “Yes, but they aren’t going to help.  The thing about the angels is, they don’t care.  They sit up there on their fluffy white clouds waiting until the time is right to end the world.”

“Why would they want to destroy the world?”

His smile took on a sarcastic edge. “It’s Dad’s word.  The plot stretches back all the way to Cain and Abel.  They were the first vessels for Michael and Lucifer.  Now, it’s you two bozos.” He pointed at Dean and Sam.

“Wait, vessel?” Sam asked. “You’re possessing some poor guy?”

Dean frowned and crossed his arms, looking away from the table.  He already knew about the vessel thing.  Didn’t mean he liked it any less.

“Angels need a vessel to interact with humans.  Unlike demons, we need permission to take over, so as long as you say ‘no’, you’re good.”

“Why us?”

“Bloodlines.  Every angel has their own.  The Winchesters and the Campbells just happen to be for the heavy hitters.”

“They’re not fully human, though,” Bobby interjected.

“Bobby’s right, Gabe,” Dean said. “You told me angels can only take over humans.  We’re weird as fuck werewolves.”

Gabe grinned shark-like. “And that’s where the Winchesters screwed up beautifully.  They got themselves cursed.  The beauty of this curse is that unless you know it’s there, you can’t actually see it.”

The space between Dean’s eyebrows creased. “You knew I was a werewolf the first time we met.”

“I knew it was there.”

“Do _you_ place the curse on our family?” asked Sam.

“Pssh, no.  Another pagan did, but I did nothing to stop them, knowing what family the guilty party was from.  The Winchester had a set amount of time he could break the curse, but well, he kept running into obstacles.” Gabe shrugged.

“Why would you let their family continue to have a curse on it?”

“Because if the Winchesters aren’t fully human, nothing can possess them.  Not demons, not angels, nothing.  You guys aren’t affected by bites from other species: mundane or supernatural.  It’s the perfect defense.  The apocalypse is over before it even has time to begin.”

“That’s good, right?” Dean said.

“Of course.” Gabe looked between Dean and Sam quickly. “One thing though, promise that neither of you will make any demon deals.  They can’t tell you’re not human, either, and they can and _will_ drag you down to hell.  You _cannot_ be in hell.”

“Why not?” Sam asked.

“Just promise.  If anything happens that a deal is the only option, call me.  I will come.”

“Course, Gabe.”

“Sure.”

Gabe nodded and snapped another candy bar into existence. “Now that some of the heavy stuff is out of the way, do you want me to clear up that demon blood inside of you?” he asked Sam.

“What?”

“Damn, did no one mention?  The psychic powers you have, aren’t weird werewolf traits, it’s from the small amount of demon blood.  It’s easy enough to clean up.”

“What happens if we just leave it?” Sam asked nervously.

“It’ll be easier for demons to manipulate you.  Pretty sure part of their plan is to get you addicted to the stuff.  And trust me, it is nasty.” Sam made a disgusted face.  Bobby looked furious.  Dean scowled down at the table. “Two seconds, and it’ll be gone.  No more visions, no more non-werewolf powers.  The demons will lose their willing pawn.”

“Do it,” Dean ground out, not even thinking about it.

“Uh-uh, Dean-o, it’s Sam’s decision.”

Sam glanced back and forth between Gabe and Dean.  Dean was glaring at Gabe.  Why wouldn’t he just get rid of the shit that was messing with his brother?  Didn’t he care?

“You...you trust him?” Sam asked, sounding like a scared little kid.

Dean turned to him and his frown softened into a smile. “With everything I have.”

Sam nodded. “Okay, do it.”

“Great!” He cracked his knuckles and reached across the table, placing one hand on Sam’s forehead.

A bright flash of light and a gasp of pain later, Gabe was pulling away from Sam.  Sam rubbed his chest, like trying to relieve some pain.

“How d’you feel?” Bobby asked.

“Lighter.  The wolf is closer to the surface.  Is that normal?” he looked at Dean.

He nodded. “Like one wrong move and you’ll transform?  Yeah, that’s normal.”

“Why didn’t it feel like that before?”

“The blood,” Gabe explained, “Demon blood is highly potent and can block out other natural powers a person might have.  If you had started drinking it, you wouldn’t have turned into a wolf anymore.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Of course, Sam-bo.” Sam bitchfaced in response.

“How long you plannin’ on staying?” Bobby asked.

“Just long enough to kidnap Dean-o here for a date.”

Bobby scowled, but allowed it. “Get outta here, but you better come around more often, ya hear?”

“You won’t be able to get rid of me.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Gabe cackled and almost fell out of his chair.

Sam looked confused. “Aren’t angels supposed to be more majestic or something?”

Dean shrugged and pulled on his jacket. “Sammy, from what I learned from Gabe, most angels are grade-A dicks.  And the others have sticks up their asses.  None of them are what we’d call ‘majestic’.” Gabe was still chuckling quietly to himself as he stood up.

“Right.  It was...good to meet you finally,” Sam responded.

“Oh the pleasure is all on this side of the table, trust me.” Gabe and Sam shook hands.

“Okay?”

“Office Space?” he asked. “You’ve _never_ seen Office Space?” Dean grabbed onto Gabe’s arm and started to steer him out the door. “Dean, you’re brother is uncultured swine!  Who’s never seen Office Space?”

“Bye!  See you tomorrow!” Dean called back and shut the door behind him. “Stop pouting.  You promised me a date.  I expect good food, pie, and the best cuddling to make up for all this shit.”

Gabe smiled and kissed Dean. “You got it, Winchester.”

_End._

**Author's Note:**

> It turns out that I should probably binge some SPN from the beginning because their fights are a lot more like current Sam and Dean than old Sam and Dean. Oops. Also, did anyone catch the HP reference in my summary. You're welcome.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> (If you liked what I do, please consider clicking my tumblr link:  
> [ Tumblr](lordrebeccasama.tumblr.com)  
> That'd be cool of you. Feel free to inquire about my writing there.)


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